Blondie's Christmas Tale

The lullaby of 24th street haunted my steps. A far off siren heralding yet another robbery gone bad. Laughter fueled by too much liquor and swearing fed by frustration. Voices raised in anger, seething with barely contained violence. The sound of a bottle shattering into a billion pieces on the side walk across the street. Hip hop or RnB exploding from a bar every time the door opened. And always, the frightened pitter patter of my heart every time I heard footsteps behind me. Eastside, baby.

The Twomps. Christmas time in ‘01, motherfucking Santa doing lines for fun, snorting snow, ho ho ho, upscale shoppers flashing plastic, thinking the season is so fantastic, while down in the city with no pity, we’re scraping to get by, getting high, only escape is if you can fly… and if you can’t, well, the sound of a body hitting concrete from six stories up isn’t something you want to experience more than once, trust me.

Winter in Oakland isn’t as brutal as some, I suppose, as long as you have somewhere to hole up for the night. Besides a doorway, that is. I was lucky. I was living in the projects, but at least I wasn’t out on the street. Had me a man, too. A good one, in my opinion, or at least not a bad one. He was good looking, made enough to help put food on the table, and, most importantly, he didn’t beat on me. Yeah, I know. Low expectations, right? That was Oakland for you. You survived and that was, usually, enough. Still, sometimes, you wanted more. Sometimes you forgot yourself and you started dreaming of something better. It always got you into trouble, but sometimes you just couldn’t help yourself.

So, there I was, in the middle of one of the hardest places on earth, soaked to the skin and freezing my skinny white ass off, dreaming again like a dumbass. It was the night before Christmas and not only weren’t the stockings hung from our non-existent fireplace with care, we didn’t even have a proper tree. James, romantic that he was, had found one of those fake silver trees in a dumpster and had done his best to straighten out the branches and make it look less ghetto. Really, it was a lost cause, but I loved him for trying at least, knowing that that only reason he really gave a shit was because he knew it meant a lot to me. See? Not a bad guy, even if he’d run with the Acorn Mob at one time. At least he’d never killed anyone that I knew of, and that was saying something, right? Sometimes it’s the little things.

Yeah, that stupid little tree meant more to me than just about anything else. We’d spent a night decorating it with pretty much anything we could stick on a hook. Paper snowflakes, mostly, or bottle caps that I’d used nail polish to paint snowmen and Santas and shit like that on. It turned our little squat into a home. Afterwards, we hadn’t fucked; we’d made love. Same thing, I know, but it’s all about the semantics, right? Later, we’d lain on a blanket next to that ugly little tree and, while he dreamed the dreams of the satisfied, I dreamt my own dreams, wide awake, unshed tears in my eyes, knowing that, come Christmas morning, there’d be nothing under it. No presents, no wrapping paper, no ribbons. Fucking Santa never visited the projects, not that I blamed him. Old white guy with a sack full of loot would be easy pickings, even for a girl like me. Baseball bat upside the head and Ol’ Grampy Santa going down like a bitch.

That’s what brought me out to Twomps, or the Murder Dubs as we sometimes called this scenic section of the city. Inspiration, baby. I’d figured out a way to put something under the tree for my man. Something nice, too, something that’d put a genuine smile on his face. Apple had just put out those Ipods and James loved his hip hop. I didn’t know shit about it, other than the promise that I could put all his 2pac and Zion I and Tribe CDs on it so he could have them whenever he was out running his route. Only thing was, even if I could find one for sale, I couldn’t afford it. I just didn’t have the cash. Still, there are other ways to pay for shit if you’re willing to put out. James thought I was doing a shift, but I’d lied to him. I was here to do a deal Oaktown style. Since I was dead broke, I was going to do it in trade with the only thing I had that was really worth much. My body. And to anyone out there judging me? Fuck you. Unless you’ve woken up on Christmas morning with nothing but broken dreams, you have no right, motherfuckers.

Carlton wasn’t a bad guy, just like my James wasn’t a bad guy. Yeah, he had a rep for being mean, but that pretty much described most of the men in my life, past and present. He wasn’t bad looking, a plus. And I’d told him up front that, if he or any of his crew hurt me too bad, I’d fuck him up in ways he couldn’t imagine. I must have sold it pretty well, because he took me serious. After that, it was up to me to deliver the goods. He showed me the ipod. I have to admit I was a bit skeptical. After all, it was about the size of a wallet. Still, it looked legit, and what did I know. Now, all I had to do was earn it…

“Let’s see the goods, Blondie,” Carlton grinned, reclining in a huge stuffed chair that would have swallowed me. It wasn’t just him, by the way. He’d invited a few friends over as well to make it a real party. At least none of them were butt ugly. Hell, a couple were even pretty good looking. Dark skinned and athletic. There were six of them in all. I figured that meant I was going to get fucked about a dozen or more times over the next four hours. Fine with me. Not like it would be my first gang bang, after all.

“She’s not much to look at, Cee.”

“Fuck you,” I replied before Carlton had a chance to retort. “Going to ruin you fuckers for life. Now put on something sexy, asshole, so I can get this show started.”

Yeah, I had a bit of an attitude, you might say. Still, it got a laugh and the mood lightened up as someone hit play on the CD player. De La Soul’s De La Soul is Dead. Suited my needs so, closing my eyes, I let the music wash over me, remembering why I was here as I started to peel my wet clothing off, layer after layer, until I was gyrating in a pair of black lace panties and matching bra, shaking my ass and tits in front of an appreciative audience.

“White girl got ass.”

Smiling, I blew a kiss at the unnamed speaker before turning around and giving him a little wiggle. Not like names mattered. I think Carlton was the only one who knew mine, after all. This wasn’t about being romanced. This was all about fucking.

“JJ. Want to break out the blow for our guest? Let’s make this a real party.”

So much for things not getting out of control.

At least it wasn’t booze. Hard liquor tends to turn guys mean and these guys were mean enough without the help. Instead JJ put a baggie full of coke beside a mirror, a little silver nose tube, and a razorblade, and proceeded to chop up a couple of heavy duty white lines. Welcome to Chez Carlton. Tonight we’re serving up black cock with a side of white horse.

“Ladies first,” Carlton flashed a bright white grin on me as I swayed over the end table, my heart pounding in my chest as I made a show of leaning over, my ass presented for the taking as I prepared to inhale an entire line through the small silver tube one of the guys handed me.

I paused, though, thinking it through. Thing is, I’d promised James I’d clean up and, and much as I wanted to fry my brains out, it was Christmas Eve and it just didn’t feel right. Regretfully, I shook my head and backed away from the table.

“Think I’ll pa... “

I didn’t have time to finish my sentence when I was grabbed by the hips and ground on. I guess my ass presented too great a temptation. In all fairness, I really did have a nice ass.

“Suit yourself, girl.”

The words were accompanied by the soft slur of a zipper being pulled. I felt his cock slap lazily against the cheeks of my ass as he roughly pulled my panties to one side. Hard to tell without looking, but it felt thick and meaty.

“Gonna fuck that pussy for you, Blondie.”

Breathing a sigh of relief that it was my cunt and not my ass that was the target, I began rubbing myself against him, feeling that familiar tingle deep inside as my pussy began to flow. Yeah, much as I hate to admit it, a bunch of nameless guys about to gang bang me was turning me on. It wasn’t like making love to James. It was primal and dark and nasty and god help me, I had missed this.

“Fuck it good and hard,” I purred, feeling my nipples swelling, the familiar ache of lust washing through me like a drug. “Stick that big black cock in me and fuck me like you mean it.”

I felt the walls of my pussy being pushed apart as the tip of his cock pressed into me. I was already wet, making it easy for him. God, it felt so good. I began to moan, reminiscent of a cat in heat, as he slowly filled me, pushing my walls apart, his fingers gripping my ass, until I could feel his pelvic bone pressing against me.

“Fucking hot. Fuck her, Dibs.”

So, my ‘assailant’ had a name. Whatever. Right now he was just a cock to me. Goes both ways, you know?

“That’s right, Dibs. Fuck this tight white pussy, baby.”

Around me, the party was in full swing. While Dibs and I rutted like sex-starved animals, me slamming back against him almost as hard as he was slamming into me, driving his cock so deep that it hurt, the rest of the guys were getting busy with the candy, sucking that shit up into their nostrils one at time. Must have been quality stuff, because I could see it in their eyes; primal lust. Even if I’d wanted to stop them, it would have been too late. What had I guessed? Maybe a dozen times? From the looks of things, this was going to be a long ass night.

“That’s right, give it up, bitch,” Dibs groaned as he smacked into my backside again, now the only one, besides Carlton, who wasn’t riding the white horse.

Around me, their attention focusing on me, the rest of the gang circled in like a pack of wild animals.

“Fuckers just standing around watching? What the fuck!” I half growled, half moaned, goading them into action.

They weren’t gentle, but I didn’t want them to be. Bra clasps are tricky things for guys at best, so they just tore mine off and began groping my ass, my tits, then grabbing my nipples and twisting until I cried out. I was going to have some explaining to do about the bruises. I’d worry about that later, though. I got pulled away from the end table, into the middle of the floor, still bent over, one of them grabbing my hair and holding me in place as he rubbed the bulge in his jeans against my face.

“For you, baby,” he said with a grin as I kissed his cock through the denim.

“Sure you don’t want some nose candy?” Carlton teased me, leaning forward in his chair as he, too, dusted the insides of his nostrils with coke.

It was too much temptation. I wanted to say no. I wanted to honor my promise, but I wanted it so bad, needed it in a way that transcended all reason.

“Please,” I moaned, much to his amusement.

“Going to do it my way, then, Blondie.”

I watched, transfixed, as he unzipped his trousers and pulled his hard cock out. God, it looked huge. Black and shiny, a thick vein running from the swollen tip to his hair balls. Taking his eyes off me for a moment, he grabbed the bag and dumped a liberal amount of powder on it and began to stroke, jerking off slowly until it looked like a tootsie roll covered in powdered sugar.

“Come and get it, sweet thing.”

I felt Dibs tightening inside of me, my hair being tugged until I was bent over Carlton’s lap, panting as I opened my mouth in welcome.

“Not yet, not yet, not yet,” I murmured, going down on him, his cock sliding over my tongue, my mouth stretching wide, tasting precum on the tip of him but, more importantly, tasting the drug he’d liberally coated himself with. I began to slurp, feeling it hit my system, shaking with need as Dibs kept pounding away at my pussy while I gave Carlton head.

“Fuck!” he groaned. Dibs, Not Cee, and I felt his cock swelling inside me moments before he filled me with cum, blasting his load deep inside of me. And then another, and another, until he was drained.

“God damn!”

Yeah, god damn was right, I thought, as the fucker pulled out of me, his jism leaking down the insides of my thighs. My pussy felt empty. Hopefully, that wouldn’t last long.

“Let me at her.”

I moaned around Carlton’s thick cock, my head bobbing up and down, sucking, slurping, making sure I got every last bit of coke off of it, while someone else yanked down my panties and impaled me from behind. The way I was feeling now, I didn’t even care which hole he nailed. He opted for sloppy seconds, though, pushing his prick into my dripping wet pussy and thrusting away.

Thing is, with coke, sometimes it takes forever to cum, but while you’re riding the high, it feels so good you don’t really care. That was where I was. I felt like a supernova, little explosions going off inside of me, lightning burning down my spine and through my nervous system and all the while, I knew its destination; my cunt. It was just a matter of time…

“Shit!” Carlton groaned, and suddenly I found myself swallowing down a mouthful of his thick creamy spunk, my pussy still being speared by cock. I was in slut heaven.

“Fuck her in the ass, Rashawn!”

“Yeah, baby, fuck me in the ass,” I mumbled around Cee’s still hard cock, not caring this time if I was ready for it. At least it would be well lubed after spending time in my cum filled cunt.

I held my breath as I felt him press the tip of his cock against my asshole, pushing out as he pushed in, gasping as I felt my ring stretched wide, the pain of entry merely making me hornier.

“Fuck, girl, you’re tight,” he groaned.

“You’re my first,” I lied, knowing that would be a turn on for him. Kind of an early Christmas present; I’m nice like that.

Wasn’t much to say after that. He plugged my ass and started humping me, grunting with every thrust. I was suddenly thankful I’d succumbed. Nothing like a head full of coke to make everything feel amazing. Reaching between my legs I started playing with my clit, slipping my fingers into my pussy first, so that they were nice and slick with Dib’s cum and my own juices. I felt like a goddess, ready to take on a whole tribe of worshippers. I needed more, though. Much more. Thankfully, these guys knew just how to treat a sex starved slut.

They grabbed my arms roughly, strong fingers gripping my wrists like iron. Another hand wrapped around my long blonde tresses, pulling me down on another cock, my mouth wide, taking it in until I almost gagged, his balls bouncing off my chin as I sucked and slurped like my life depended on it. I could Feel Rashawn’s sack slapping against my pussy as he pounded my ass from behind, his coke fueled high keeping him inhumanely hard. Someone grabbed my tit and started sucking on my nipple and then biting into it. I squealed again, the sound muted by the prick down my throat, the pain electric and yes, welcome.

“Fu... ,” was all the warning I got as Rashawn unleashed his load in my ass so vigorously that the top of my head slammed into the abs of the guy I was blowing. Moments later, he erupted too, his cum filling my throat as I swallowed desperately. And still no orgasm for me.

“I need to cum,” I protested, moaning as I was pulled down onto the floor on top of yet another horny gang banger, giggling as we wrestled for his cock, our goals the same; to shove it into my needy little fuck hole so I could ride him.

“Yeah, oh god, feels so… shi-“

That was me being pushed down flat, my tits pressed against his chest while someone else slid their cock into my cum filled ass and started pumping furiously. The feeling of two thick pricks filling me, working in unison, only a thin wall of flesh separating them was unbelievable. I shook with lust, mashing my mouth against into the guy’s beneath me, my tongue pushing past his lips, our spit mingling as the both pounded me.

“Bitch is in heat.”

I wasn’t even sure who said it, but they were dead right. I was on fire. I felt that, if I didn’t come soon, I’d fucking explode. Riding the edge of an orgasm for this long couldn’t be good for me, right?

“Ungh,” the guy underneath me groaned, his cock pulsing and swelling as he blasted my pussy full of spunk setting me off as well. I thought I might black out, pleasure so intense it was painful burning through me, making me shudder and shake, my pussy spasming, my cunt clenching around his cock, my ass tightening just as the other guy blew his load into it. I wasn’t going to have to worry about being well lubed now.

After a while, I started losing track of how many times I was fucked, who was doing the fucking, how much cum I was swallowing, how many times I climaxed, but some of it stood out…

“Hold her down, Charles. Spread her legs so I can see that nasty little pussy.”

I was looking up, feeling my legs being spread apart while I lay on my back, seven naked guys standing around me, their black skin glistening with sweat, their swollen cocks shiny with cum as they jerked off, and yes, I was smiling for them, putting on a show, my hand between my legs as I rubbed my clit, fingers dripping wet, pinching my nipples, cupping my tits, mouth open, moaning obscenely as JJ grunted and shot a load of milk white cum all over my tits. That opened the floodgates. Semen splashed on my belly, and my cunt. I rubbed it in, writhing like a beast in heat, my eyes huge. Another jet landed on my face, some of it getting into my mouth. I licked as much of it off my lips as I could and stuck my cum coated tongue out so they could see it. More landed in my hair and on my thigh. Pretty soon I was coated with the stuff.

“Getting your money’s worth, Carlton,” one of them laughed. I think his name was Casey? Not that it mattered much.

“Almost, but not yet,” he said with a grin. Girl hasn’t gotten to ride the Big C, yet. Gotta make this a memorable night for her.”

I had to be helped to my feet. I was shaking too much to manage it on my own. I was practically dripping with cum after their impromptu circle jerk bukkake session.

“Bring her over,” he grinned, sitting back down in the stuffed chair, looking for all intents and purposes like an emperor taking the throne, his stiff prick standing straight up like a battle standard. “You gonna ride me like a good little white girl, or am I going to have to get rough, Blondie?”

“I like it rough,” teased him with an obviously wired grin. “How about you show me just how rough you play, Cee?”

Someone gave me a push from behind, sending me staggering and putting me in reach of Carlton who simply grabbed my wrist and yanked me onto his lap so that I was facing him, straddling his muscular thighs, sandwiching his cock between our bellies.

“Remember, you asked for it, Blondie.”

I think that, if I hadn’t said anything, he would have just fucked me and sent me on my way. Sometimes my mouth gets me into trouble, though, and this was one of those times.

Not sure where he came up with the belt, I mean, I don’t remember him wearing one earlier. Might have been one of the other guys, though. Before I had a chance to change my mind, I found myself down on my knees, my wrists belted together behind my back, my cheek pressed into the carpeting while Carlton stood over me in all his dark skinned magnificence, a second belt, folded in half, in his big hands.

“Going to earn that little toy now, bitch.”

Like I said, he had a rep for being mean. As for me, well… something I didn’t share much, but I liked a little pain from time to time, something I’d yet to come to terms with and definitely something I’d never shared with James.

The first blow stung, and I cried out in pain, trembling as it burned through my left cheek, leaving me breathless and ravenous for more. I could feel the heat of it, knowing that it was going to leave a bruise or worse. I didn’t care. I wanted, no, needed, this. I think I could have cum simply from being whipped like this, especially when he started in on my pussy.

The wet smack of leather against wet flesh was audible, as was the cry I let out moments later when it translated to searing pain which, in turn, became ecstatic pleasure.

“All warmed up for me, Blondie?”

I replied with a moan, wiggling my bottom, hoping he took the hint, not sure myself what I wanted; more of the belt or that big black cock I’d sucked earlier. Didn’t really matter, to be honest, as long as…

I never finished that thought; he drove it out of me as he rammed his cock into my cunt without any ceremony. I was just something to be used and I was okay with that. It’s what I wanted right then and there. I didn’t want to be made love to. That was what James did. I wanted to be used. I needed to be fucked.

And yeah, Carlton fucked me. He not only wasn’t gentle, but he was deliberately rough, demanding that I suck JJ’s cock while he thrust in and out of my pussy, cum from numerous partners spilling out every time he pulled out, his hips banging into my reddened ass over and over. It felt like an eternity until, finally, with a savage sound he came hard inside me, pushing me over the edge as well, JJ pulling his cock from my gaping mouth and blowing his load all over my face…

After that, it was over. I was exhausted and sore and tired, and the coke was wearing off. I glanced at the clock on the wall and groaned. It was Christmas morning. Well, it was still the dead of night, but midnight had come and gone. Merry fucking Christmas, right?

There was really nothing left to do. I didn’t expect to be snuggled or cuddled or even hugged, and I wasn’t disappointed. The guys were pretty worn out themselves. I never did find my panties and bra, but at least I found the rest of my stuff. And, more importantly, before I left, Cee paid me for being their whore and surprised me with a little decency as well.

“Crash here for a bit. I’ll have one of the guys walk you to the bus stop in the morning, Blondie. Girl like you shouldn’t be out there by yourself.”

“Whatever, Carlton,” I mumbled, too exhausted to even think straight.

“You want a replay, you know where to find me,” he teased.

Yeah, right. Don’t count on it. Like I said, my high was wearing off and I just wanted to be home, take a hot shower, and crawl into bed with my man. Carlton’s offer, though, was too tempting. I felt worn to the bone. I was out cold seconds after curling up on the sofa. I never even noticed when someone slipped a cushion under my head and a thick, warm blanket over me. True to his word, Cee sent me on my way early the next morning, Rashawn making sure I got on the bus safely after giving my ass a playful swat.

“Merry Christmas, girl,” he wished with a sleepy smile.

“Yeah, you too,” I mumbled sincerely before boarding the bus that would take me back to the projects and, more importantly, to James.

oOo

Yeah, Oakland has a way of fucking your dreams up. Christmas morning and me still kind of dazed from getting fucked all night long and shaking from the after effects of a night of come down dreams sponsored by coke I stumbled through the front door, clutching my prize, a clumsily wrapped ipod, in one hand.

“Merry Christmas, James,” I slurred, shivering and wet after walking several blocks from the bus stop in the pouring rain, just waiting for the hammer to fall, having already played it out in my head on the ride home.

“Where the fuck have you been, bitch? God, you smell like a god damn whore. You been out fucking around on me, haven’t you?”

And yeah, this would be the time he’d snap, when he’d go from being a pretty good guy to being an asshole. This is the time he’d smack me around a bit and leave me curled up on the mattress crying while he called me every filthy name in the book and then forced himself on me. I’d seen it too many times to think it would end up any differently…

“God, you okay, Blondie? You’re soaked to the skin. I was getting worried.”

“Busy night at the diner,” I lied. “It’s fucking pouring out.”

“Here, let me get you out of those clothes, baby.”

He never said a word about the bruises or the way I smelled like sex or my missing underwear or the way I stumbled over words and looked slightly unfocused as he kissed me gently and removed his gift from my hand before wrapping me up in a warm blanket and heating up a cup of hot chocolate in the microwave for me. For once I was thankful for the hard rain, seeing as it had washed all the cum out of my hair and off my face.

“Merry Christmas, baby. Open it,” I told him between sips, my eyes shining with unshed tears, knowing that we both deserved better, yet unable to keep a little joy seeping into my heart at his expression.

He was right. It wasn’t much. A pair of little butterfly earrings that I’d once fussed over at the local street fair, writing them off as yet another nice thing I would never own.

“Yeah, I went back for them later, girl. Just didn’t think it was right that you couldn’t have something nice for once, you know? Something as pretty as you. Sorry it’s not more.”

“It’s perfect,” I told him with a smile as I carefully hooked them through the holes in my earlobes before digging a mirror out of my purse so that I could admire them. “Nicest thing anyone’s ever given me.”

Best thing about it? I didn’t even have to lie.

And no, he never asked, even though I think he had a good idea, how I’d managed to get my hands on his present. Not all gifts come neatly wrapped in ribbons.

We spent the rest of the day over at a friend’s place, loading music off his computer onto that little gadget that cost me so much and later on that night, we made love again. Gentle and sweet and a little desperate. Afterwards he held me close while I cried myself to sleep and you know something? Every time I woke up, he was still there, brushing away my tears until finally, I was done with them.

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